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Updated: June 14, 2025
After dinner we went to the Café Pedrocchi, celebrated throughout all Italy for its magnificence. Nothing could be more monumentally classic. There are nothing but pillars, columnets, ovolos, and palm leaves of the Percier and Fontain kind, the whole very fine and lavish of marble.
We have the story of one these heroes of hazard to tell, a story the more interesting from the fact that he was a cripple who seemed fit only to hobble about his home. It is the remarkable feat of Lamar Fontain, a Confederate despatch-bearer, which the record of the war has nothing to surpass.
It was a stray one which had come to her place after the Yankee foragers had carried off all the horses she owned. Fontain was now in a safe region. His borrowed horse carried him to Raymond by two o'clock the next morning, and was here changed for a fresh one, which enabled him to reach Jackson during the forenoon.
Knowing the daring and usual success of Lamar Fontain in very hazardous enterprises, Johnston engaged him to endeavor to carry a verbal message to General Pemberton, sending him out on the perilous and seemingly impossible venture of making his way into the closely beleaguered city.
With the aid of his remaining crutch, and carrying his baggage, Fontain groped his way along the river side, keenly looking for some means of conveyance on its waters. He soon found what he wanted in the shape of a small log canoe, tied to a tree on the river bank.
Fontain was glad enough after his day and night among the besieged to seek again the more open field of operations outside. Receiving a despatch from General Pemberton to his colleague in the field, and a suitable reward for his service, he betook himself again to the canoe which had stood him in such good stead and resumed his task of danger.
She even ended by going to sleep, her cheek tingling, her eyes full of tears and feeling so deliciously depressed and wearied and submissive that she no longer noticed the crumbs. When she woke up in the morning she was holding Fontain in her naked arms and pressing him tightly against her breast. He would never begin it again, eh? Never again? She loved him too dearly.
He assumed the name of his barony, La Boissonade, as was common in those days; and he acted as lieutenant in the company of La Fontain. The regiment, when completed, was at once despatched to the north of Ireland to join the little army of about ten thousand Protestants, who had already laid siege to and taken the fortified town of Carrickfergus.
He began questioning Fontain with a curiosity that threatened unpleasant consequences, and the alert scout ended the colloquy with a pistol bullet which struck the plunderer squarely in the forehead. Leaving him stretched on the path, with his poultry and honey beside him, Fontain made all haste from that dangerous locality.
He seemed to form the right flank of a line of sentinels posted to command the ferry. It was a time for quick and decisive action. Fontain had approached, pistol in hand, and as the man hailed he felled him with a bullet, then wheeled his horse and set out at full gallop up the stream. A shower of balls followed him, one of them striking his right hand and wounding all four of its fingers.
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